The Start of the Storm

[shardofwinter]

The god hosted Yule party left the Nexus in the state of beautiful Winter Wonderland. With the snow falling softly and steadily, and the beautiful festive lights twinkling in the darkness, the Nexus is left with a sense of serene nostalgia hanging in the cold air. This peace and joy clings to the streets for several weeks, buoying everyone’s mood as they look back on the past year and forward to ringing in the new one. 

It starts in the Wilds, and the outskirts. The cold air suddenly feels like it freezes everything it touches in an instant. Light doesn’t quite pierce the gloom. Gentle snowfall becomes thick and falls hard. One or two people looking for shelter from their uninhabitable homes isn’t too noticeable. People can still enjoy their pretty Winter, blissfully unaware. Pipes freeze solid, paths become impassable, power cuts out, simple walks become baffling in the poor visibility. Soon it’s not one or two people, it’s many, it’s families. There are people coming in, bloody, bruised and scared, saying they were chased. Eventually the kindness of friends and strangers becomes strained. Spare rooms are packed to the brim and the storm that stays just shy of the bizarre torches somehow seems to have a slow, but unmistakable march closer towards a point where the Plaza, Industrial sector and Downtown meet. On top of that, people are complaining about PINpoints acting up or portals freezing over. 

Streets are becoming packed full of people with far more problems than solutions. Huddling together and whispering about ghosts and monsters moving about in the shadows. In a place with no government, no organisation, no collaborative emergency services, chaos and confusion reigns supreme. And with chaos, comes panic. With confusion, comes frustration and anger. The Nexus is a powder keg waiting to blow.

That’s certainly how one Durant sees it. As a manager, Isidor is keen on organisation and order. Both things that are lacking in the Nexus at the moment. Groups pop up to help, but struggle to communicate effectively, or work together. Some people get free food twice, some people are still waiting for some at all. It’s madness, and Isidor can’t stand it. Particularly because she, her brother and sister-in-law are stuck here. So, when nobody else takes the mantle, Isidor Durant takes it upon herself to inject some order into this scrum.

In her fur hat and long coat, leather gloves and thick boots, Isidor can be seen directing people this way and that. There’s something about a confident person taking charge that means people instinctively defer to them. She becomes the point of contact quite easily, with people soon taking her direction regardless of whether or not they know her. Under her instruction, people are directed to a building that has tables set up, queues in front of them, and volunteers behind them taking names and telling people where to go. It might still be chaos, but at least now it’s organised chaos.

The question is: Where will your character go?

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((Below are comments for each desk. Tag any of them, threadhop, or post with your own character. I suggest putting your character’s name in the subject to help keep things clear. Comments marked with a snowflake ( ❅  ) have been coordinated with the mods and I as official event comments. The OOC Post is here! If you have any questions, feel free to message me or one of the mods!))

Threads of Note
Medicine/Illness | Shelter/Heat | Food | Security/Crime | Lost items/people | Misc resources/Donations | Volunteers | Expeditions | Planning Table/The woman in charge | Drulb's Deelz | A Ship in the Outskirts 

Comments

[alittlehinky]

"...um." Cricket says softly, like he kind of wants to object, to question, because this is partly his responsibility, and since the man on the table can't say yea or nay to whatever Azwel wants to do, it seems like someone should at least try to understand what's about to happen. It's not that he distrusts magic in particular. He's fascinated by it, especially after meeting Caleno, after getting close to Loki. It's not for him, the same way pole-vaulting isn't for him, but he can admire it.

But there's always a price to be paid for a miracle.

On the other hand, the man clearly has no chance without some major intervention, so Cricket opts to shut up and let the sorcerer do his work. And what a work it is! Cricket was already a little shaken up, but the light and sound and the thrum at the base of his spine makes him feel like he's about to pass out, and potentially vomit in the process. He sways and takes a couple hasty steps backward to drop into a sitting position on a crate, letting his head hang between his knees.

"Jesus," he mutters under his breath. And it's a mercy it ends when it does, and he's spared any further embarrassment.

He looks up woozily and is immediately concerned that Azwel looks about as sickly as he feels. "Y'a'ight, sir? You best sit..."

His gaze goes to Steve, then. He's halfway checking to make sure he's okay, and halfway hoping he can drag Azwel to a chair ASAP.

[juststeverogers]

Steve's got no sense for the magic or arcane. But just because he can't pick up on magic doesn't mean he can't see what's being done. The effects themselves and the almost-melody that ring through the air feel like they're messing with his sense of balance. Like his inner ear has been damaged or he's experiencing the mother of all seasickness. He moves back when Cricket does, though not quite as far and is honestly startled by how unsteady he feels on his feet.

As though they'd give way underneath him at any second.

Okay, he feels a lot more woozy than he thought he would. Steve's actually gotten used to the way things hit him now. Not as intensely (unless they're things that are meant to be fatal to ordinary folk), and never lingering for as long as they should. Flashes of pain that dull away rather than chronic lingering pain he's known all his life.

Right now, in this moment? Steve feels like he's both at once. He's clearly in his altered body but he's shaky in a way he hasn't been since he was in his own. He doesn't like it one bit. But whatever else the magic has done, it's clearly done good for the man on the cot.

Steve looks up with a gaze as shaky as the rest of him when Azwel tumbles back into a chair. Turns slowly so the room doesn't spin to look back at Cricket and make sure he's alright. And then, to Azwel.

"Will you be okay?" A beat. "Should we restrain this guy?"

[lovesuwithknives]

Azwel swallows hard, rubbing one arm under his nose and blinking at the blood there. Well. That's new.

"Might be best... for his own safety." Later, he'll examine the fellow thoroughly--with the absence of any kind of supernatural injury, it'll be interesting to see how he weathers these energies.

For his own part, though, Azwel leans bonelessly back in the chair. "...need something to... eat or drink...." Looks like his blood sugar plummeted, the fool.

[alittlehinky]

It's not really Cricket's place to put a value on a stranger's life, even one that's tried to do him harm, but he can't help wondering if saving him is worth the cost Azwel's just paid. He worries his lip, patting his pockets until he comes up with about a third of a chocolate bar left over from Christmas. It's the only edible thing on him, but he pushes it at Azwel firmly. "Here. Ain't a meal, but it's somethin'. Gimme a sec, I can get you somethin' hot to drink once my head stops spinnin'."

Because Steve is the better choice for restraining the unconscious burglar. No question of that in Cricket's mind.

[juststeverogers]

For his own safety? Well, considering the circumstances that lead to him breaking in to Cricket's home Steve can sort of understand how if the man wakes up stable he might try to seek out revenge and that would end badly for everyone. Especially him. It hasn't occurred to Steve yet that something Azwel did might have affected the man's mind.

He's too busy trying to get his feet steady underneath him.

"Right. Cricket will get you sorted. I'm..." A deep breath, then two. He feels a little bit better now that the magic isn't being wielded anymore. He's got this, right? Right? Yeah. "I'll handle him."

Captain James Kirk has plenty of rope over by the expedition station and once Steve murmurs what it's for he'll be allowed as much as he needs to carefully bind the man's hands and feet securely. It's not ideal but he'll have to talk to Lyall about where they're holding anyone that's captured. A makeshift jail is better than being exiled to the cold.

[lovesuwithknives]

"Hm?" He blinks blearily at the offered chocolate, then smiles. "Ah, that'd be perfect, thank you." He has to lean forward a bit to reach out a hand to take it. Once he has it he leans back again, unwrapping it and popping it in his mouth before looking back at Ralts, who pets his hair with a sad squeak.

"I'll be fine," he says, reaching up to gently scratch the back of her head. "Don't fret."

Then the notion of Cricket's own condition makes it way through is rather sluggish thoughts and he looks at the younger man, head tilted. "You're head's spinning? What's wrong?"

He'll explain to Steve what he means once he's sure nobody is going to fall over.

[alittlehinky]

Cricket takes a couple moments to get his feet under him, and he's keen enough to gather from Steve's body language that in spite of all his superhuman strength and stamina he's shaken, too. Actually, he looks like he may be a little more shaken than Cricket, even, although Cricket is a poor judge of his own psychological limits.

He stands slowly, testing his weight on sore legs, and purses his lips, because he can just tell from the feel that the braces are rubbing blisters at his knees, and that's not great. Between that and the pain, he's going to have to rest his legs for a few hours as soon as he can, but he promised hot drinks and he wants to follow through. The only trouble with that being things are rationed right now, and whatever odds and ends were left in Harley's kitchen are too far away for him to fetch.

So he just stands where he is, looking uncertain, wanting to help and in a poor position to do so.

"I'm a'ight," he assures Azwel with a stubborn little nod. "Just the magic-y light or whatever you did made me feel kinda queasy. Is that enough, the chocolate? I can go ask for rations if y'want me to."